


How Fortunate the Man with None

by Rroselavy



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-01
Updated: 2010-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-10 08:30:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rroselavy/pseuds/Rroselavy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coming to terms with abandonment is not Gojyo's strong suit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Fortunate the Man with None

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alienchrist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienchrist/gifts).



The bar was claustrophobic. Gojyo hurried out into the cooler evening air after downing the requisite number of beers: enough to take some of the edge off the uneasiness that had been his constant companion for a while now--since he and Hakkai had come upon Goku's crumpled form cradled in Sanzo's lap.

Gojyo thought things would go back to normal eventually, but then he realized he couldn't put his finger on just what 'normal' was. Certainly nothing he'd ever experienced, or if he had, it was buried so deep in the folds of his brain--hidden away under layer upon layer of his messed-up family--that no amount of searching could bring it to light.

Okay, so he'd settle for familiar, for the way things had been. Even if it meant endless hours of dry wind and gritty sand peppering his face, irritating particles insinuating into every crack and crevice of his clothing and skin. Or sharing a too-small back seat with an overactive, always-hungry mini-monkey, and dodging bullets carelessly fired by one overly pissy monk. Or counting the hours before the bumpy ride would end in some godforsaken shit-hole, Sanzo having long grown tired of Goku's broken-record whine and probably suffering a sore shoulder from pummeling the kid with his harisen. There they could fill Goku's bottomless stomach, settle in for the night, and he and Hakkai could make excuses to find themselves alone with each other.

Anything would be better than their new reality--a nameless town full of living corpses. The souls that inhabited the youkai citizens had long since fled their physical bodies while they engaged in a senseless, winless war with humankind. And Gojyo, with his taboo eyes and hair, was a misfit here just like he would be in the human settlement the youkai villagers battled against. If they didn't get the hell out, he swore he'd go crazy. Or worse, Hakkai would. And, as much as Goku was trying to make the best of it--had even managed to make friends with some of the villagers, particularly the girl who vaguely resembled the pissy priest--Gojyo knew that, away from Sanzo, he too was withering away inside.

They needed to press on. To where, Gojyo had little idea, but he was sure that every day spent in one place waiting for something to happen was one day closer to an early grave--by either human or youkai hand. And Gojyo would rather die moving forward, moving away from the past that threatened to claim him every unguarded moment, than die in the purgatory they'd landed in. He'd tried to bring up the subject with Hakkai earlier, only to be stonewalled. Their near-death experience, so close on the heels of the disaster that Sanzo had left them in, was still too fresh. What had been left unspoken, though, was how it had nearly killed him back then in that other nameless town--when he'd stood by impotently as Hakkai in his youkai form had battled the Seiten Taisei. How, in the aftermath, he'd lost Hakkai's thready pulse. How in those few silent, still seconds, his world had suddenly lost all meaning.

How his breath had clawed its way loose from his chest as his own heart lurched, then clenched in sympathy.

That was another topic that was off-limits.

Gojyo's boots scraped over the dry earth, bringing up a cloudy trail, as he made his way back to their shelter. The town was somber, the mood matching the fatalistic determination of its inhabitants, and the pall that hung in the air threatened to swallow him whole, to plunge him into the abyss. Gojyo fought it, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, counting his strides for distraction. Each step that brought him closer to Hakkai distanced him from the overbearing stench of death, pulled him closer to life, to a life worth living.

By the time he reached their neighborhood, evening had fully settled in. Shadows played across his path, given form by the light of the full moon and meager cook-fires. The smell of spit-roasted meats turned his empty belly. At least it wasn't human flesh, he reassured himself uneasily. And it couldn't possibly be Sanzo's. As much as Gojyo wanted the monk to pay for what he'd done (or didn't do) to them or for them--Gojyo couldn't exactly remember what he was most pissed about anymore, the abdication or the abandonment--no one deserved that end. He felt the bile rise from deep in his gut, the acrid taste catching at the back of his throat before he swallowed it back down. He broke out into a sweat and was relieved when he turned down the narrow alley where he, Hakkai, and Goku were rooming.

When he drew the curtain back from the entrance to their hut, the smell that greeted him was far less malevolent than the odors that pervaded the air outside. He relaxed a little, felt the tension ease from his neck and shoulders. As he toed off his shoes, his eyes swept over the modest living space. Hakkai had left a lantern lit on the rickety table that meals were served on. A covered bowl waited for him at his seat. It must have been later than he thought; both Hakkai and Goku had turned in for the evening. He passed the alcove where Goku's pallet was located and moved the curtain aside. Goku was curled on his side, his back to the opening, his shaggy head just visible above the thin sheet he'd drawn around him. He looked so small lying there, incapable of the carnage Gojyo had seen him inflict in his natural state, and certainly not capable of killing Hakkai. But Gojyo had seen just that when Hakkai had fought for both his and Goku's lives.

Gojyo shivered and let go of the curtain. His hands balled into fists as the memory he'd barely held in check came racing to the surface--a tidal wave breaching the barrier he'd constructed to help him forget. He felt the resistance of Hakkai's chest under his hands as he administered CPR, so different in that context from all the other times he'd touched Hakkai, his lips moving in some silent prayer offered up to any and all gods who might have bothered to listen. He crossed the narrow space to the area they'd curtained off to sleep in. Gojyo had carved up the two areas from the main room at first to give both Hakkai and Goku privacy as their wounds healed. And then, as time passed, bereft of Sanzo's overbearing presence, Gojyo no longer felt the need keep his relationship with Hakkai a secret. Goku, for his part, seemed to take it in stride. The kid probably knew all along; Goku had a talent for seeing things like that--relationships--clearly.

Hakkai, too, was turned away from him, but he shifted in the bed when Gojyo pulled the curtain closed. Gojyo made short work of undressing. He knew his clothes and hair probably stank of stale smoke and beer, but he couldn't shower; water to bathe in was an obscene luxury in this desert town, not something to be squandered over unpleasant, clinging odors.

Gojyo slid onto the bed, a sudden chill racking him. His skin felt raw against the rough weave of the bed linens. The mattress springs creaked as he settled, his body conforming to Hakkai's, slotting against him perfectly. His hand slid over Hakkai's shoulder, a thumb tracing over the jut of his collarbone. Hakkai stirred.

"Gojyo," Hakkai greeted. He sounded worn out.

"Shhhh," Gojyo soothed, his mouth pressed against Hakkai's ear. He mouthed the shell, his lips ghosting over the limiters. "Sorry I'm late." His hand traveled lower, mapping Hakkai's toned chest and his arm tightened, pressing their bodies together, as if to reassure himself that Hakkai was truly there. He rocked against him, into the warmth radiating from his body.

"What is it?" Hakkai whispered softly. Neither of them wanted to wake Goku--to remind him in the hush of the night that they were a couple while he'd been set adrift. Still, Gojyo could hear the sleep draining from Hakkai's voice, concern taking its place. He kissed a path from Hakkai's earlobe to his shoulder, and Hakkai turned into the soft caresses until he was lying on his back. In the low light Gojyo could feel Hakkai's eyes boring into him.

"Sanzo," he started. "I want to hate the bastard, but at the same time ... at the same time ... it feels like we're ..." he grasped for an appropriate word to describe the vacuum Sanzo had left. "Understufffed."

"'Understuffed'?" Hakkai echoed softly. His fingers threaded through Gojyo's hair, soothed over his brow.

"Yeah," Gojyo sighed quietly. "Like the monkey says when he's hungry ... something's missing, it doesn't feel like we're whole."

"I see." The darkness heightened Gojyo's hearing; he picked up the strain in Hakkai's voice. They were steaming full speed toward another taboo topic.

"I mean, we've been traveling together so long..." He fumbled, then changed course. "When I left that time ... you guys came after me ... maybe that's what he needs?"

"There was no way I was going to leave you behind, Gojyo," came the clipped response.

"I know." He nuzzled against the palm of Hakkai's hand before settling his head against his shoulder. "And Sanzo probably doesn't want us to go chasing after him. But I think it's what Goku needs."

"I don't think this is about what Goku needs."

"Why do you say that?" Gojyo propped himself up on one bent elbow.

Hakkai's fingers ceased their movement. In the silence that surrounded them while he waited for an answer, Gojyo heard Goku shift, then sigh in his sleep. Hakkai's reply was in the form of a question.

"What do you need, Gojyo?"

_To be loved._ The unspoken response was automatic. It was always lurking there, just under the surface of his skin, waiting to emerge when he felt his most vulnerable. It was what he'd always wanted: to be loved by his parents, by his stepmother, by his brother. And he'd fallen so short of that for so many years, so many times, that he'd long ago come to an understanding that he just wasn't good enough for that. One by one they abandoned him.

Until Hakkai.

Hakkai had forced Gojyo to see himself in a different light, and the harsh light he'd lived under was turned outward--no longer pinning him, naked and exposed, in the spotlight's glare. The shortcomings he'd owned were no longer his, but had metamorphosed into catastrophic failures on the part of the people he'd needed most.

And Hakkai loved him--despite his carousing, despite his slovenly habits--Hakkai saw beyond all that. And what was left--Gojyo's bare essence--had been deemed lovable. Goku loved him, too, Gojyo was sure of that, despite how they bickered. And hell, Gojyo supposed, it was even possible Sanzo cared about them all too, though he'd never admit feeling anything but contempt toward any of them. Which was why his disappearance hurt all the more. It unearthed all the emotions Gojyo had felt when Jien walked out on him, reminded him how he'd felt as a kid: injured by his insane stepmother's axe and not loved enough by Jien for him to stick around. Gojyo tried to couch those painful memories in righteous anger, raging at how the monk's absence was affecting Goku, but of the three of them, Goku seemed to be the most philosophical about the situation, the most eager to carry on--the way Sanzo would want it, he said.

Why the kid would care ... well, now--in the middle of the inky night that concealed lovers' furtive moves--that became pretty obvious. As much as Gojyo wanted to scoff at Goku's unwavering loyalty, at least now he understood it. It was fueled by the same emotions he held for Hakkai. He pressed his lips against Hakkai's jaw.

"You," he breathed. The single-word statement was liberating.

Hakkai's hands tilted Gojyo's face up and then warm lips pressed against his. A ravenous hunger drove Gojyo to dominate the kiss even as Hakkai's hands pushed his shoulders until he was flat on his back. Breaking the kiss, Hakkai came up to a sitting position, straddling him. In the dim light Gojyo could just make out his wild-eyed look, an answering need that matched his own.

Hakkai's hands expertly stroked his erection, coaxing him to full hardness. Gojyo stifled the groan that threatened; instead, he rolled his hips, greedily demanding more. The reality of their situation faded, shrinking their world to the confines of the narrow bed they shared.

"Gods, Hakkai, I need you so bad," he repeated in a ragged whisper. He palmed Hakkai's hard length; it felt heavy and hot in his hand as he caressed it. The bedsprings squeaked momentarily as Hakkai shifted to give Gojyo better access. Across the small space Goku stirred. They both froze. In the tense silence Gojyo felt Hakkai's pulse throbbing in his cock, heard his breath catch when he slowly squeezed along the shaft. Hakkai leaned forward and reached for something on the nightstand. Gojyo heard the soft _click!_ of the cap on the lubricant vial being opened as his hands played over Hakkai's chest, teasing taut nipples. Hakkai's breath caught and Gojyo heard him fumble with the tube momentarily. Soon enough, though, he was coating Gojyo's dick with the slippery fluid, and then he guided Gojyo's cock to his entrance and slowly descended, sheathing him deep inside, the building pressure nearly unbearable.

Trying to keep silent proved to be nearly impossible--Gojyo wasn't sure how they managed it. It was also even more arousing. He gasped from the sensation of the tight heat surrounding his dick and did his best to stay quiet until Hakkai bent over him and their lips met in a hungry kiss. He anchored his hands to Hakkai's hips and they rocked together, entwined in a slow dance. The springs groaned, and Gojyo pretended they could sound that way from normal settling.

Hakkai's hands wandered over his chest then slid up to tangle in his hair. Movements became more purposeful; as he felt his climax being drawn out of him, Gojyo slipped one hand across Hakkai's hip, grasped his erection, and stroked it in counterpoint to their sensual rhythm.

Gojyo's breath hitched as he came deep inside Hakkai, riding out wave after wave of pleasure. Hakkai showered tiny nips and kisses along his jawline before running his tongue along the rim of his ear.

"I need you, too."

The whisper was so low Gojyo almost thought he imagined it, but he knew he hadn't. Hakkai's warm breath caressed his ear as Gojyo felt his spend coating his hand. His chest ached from a well of emotion, the realization that Hakkai would have mourned him if Goku, in his true form, had killed him that night. He shook away the maudlin thoughts that threatened as Hakkai moved off of him and stretched out on the bed, then grabbed a tissue and swabbed Gojyo's belly.

He felt spent, physically and emotionally, but at the same time, Gojyo was content for the moment. The hollow feeling had dissipated somewhat, had been filled by Hakkai, by the reminder that even in this desolate place, he had much to be thankful for. He pulled Hakkai closer; Hakkai laid his head on Gojyo's shoulder and rested his hand on Gojyo's pounding chest.

"So, do you want to go after him?" he asked after a while, long after Gojyo had figured he'd fallen asleep.

"Yeah, if only so I can kick his ass," he replied wryly.

"Mm," Hakkai said, matching his tone. "You might have to wait in line for that."


End file.
